Handyman Hank Ch. 02

"Who won the pageant?" She called as I walked to my truck.

"Beats me, but I got the prize."

The final words I heard as I closed my truck's door were, "I'll have lunch ready about noon."

As I told you in the last chapter, I always try to tell the rest of the story. Miss Peggy continued to call, about every four weeks or so, for the next ten years. She was one fine lady and a great piece of ass.

Did her husband ever catch on? Not sure on that one, but Old Joe did tell me about a fishing trip he'd had with hubby. He said the old guy got to drinking and talking about how much better things had been around his house for the last couple of years—said the wife was always in a good mood, especially after he went fishing, and whatever was causing it, he hoped it wouldn't stop.

Old Joe grabbed an R C Cola out the cooler without throwing money in the bucket, when he told me this. Taking a long draught, he saluted me with the bottle and said, with a toothless grin, "You owe me dis one."

THE END

I hope you enjoyed this story. As always, your comments are welcome, even the ones who keep me humble by reminding me what a piece of crap I am, as a writer. I ask just two things of you: first, if you don't like it, please specify what you don't like, if you can; the second thing, every reader can and should do every time they finish a story—click on a STAR to rate how you liked the story. Think of it as a tip—one star if the food was raw and the service was awful, five if everything was great, or select a number for something between the two extremes. (I know these rating instructions seem silly, but since less than one per-cent of readers vote, instructions can't hurt. I refuse to believe that many people would stiff their server, if they knew how simple it was.)